


Ginny/Hermione Drabbles and Short Stories

by shyath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyath/pseuds/shyath
Summary: Crossposted from Fanfiction.net. Various drabbles and short stories featuring Ginny/Hermione.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Kudos: 35





	1. If You Must Know

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked, settling down next to Hermione.

Hermione sighed loudly as she slowly sat up to glare at Ginny. Ever since school had ended and everyone had gone home for the Christmas holiday – but of course the Weasleys and Hermione had opted to stay to keep Harry company; not that the Boy Who Refused to Go Home Especially For the Holidays would be sharp enough to catch on to the real reason, Hermione had taken up almost permanent residence on the spot in front of the fireplace, a quill in one hand, a bottle of ink to the side and a thick roll of parchment spread in front of her.

Sparing a glance to the parchment, Ginny could make out the tiny, neat script that was unmistakably Hermione's and she could not help but be impressed at the speed with which Hermione was working – nearly three-quarters of the parchment had been filled. Whatever it was she working on.

"Well?" Ginny persisted. Hermione had quickly rolled up the parchment when she saw Ginny's eyes wandering.

"It's nothing," Hermione replied grumpily, stowing away everything in her schoolbag before turning back to Ginny once more.

"Seriously, tell me," Ginny started once more, determined to mentally file that image of Hermione for future reference but now could be spent for better and more important things, "you've been working at that parchment ever since the holiday started. I'm getting tired just looking at you working!"

Hermione sighed loudly once more then training her eyes steadily on Ginny, she said in a very clear voice, "If you must know, I'm writing a lesbian smut and I just can't seem to get the sex scene right. Now, if you don't feel like helping out, please clear out and leave me alone." Hermione then began to take her things out of her bag as if assured that her answer had satisfactorily driven Ginny out of the Common Room for the time being.

She was suddenly surprised to feel warmth envelop her about the general area of her back and feather-light touches at the base of her neck. She turned sharply and almost knocked her forehead into Ginny's. "Ginny!" she yelled, quite aware that her voice sounded very high. "What are you doing?!"

"Didn't you ask for help?" Ginny replied smoothly with a grin as she pushed Hermione and her half-hearted protests onto her back.


	2. Muggle Me Up

"Ginny, I really don't think this is what the Professor meant by a report on the practical multi-functionality of muggle uniforms," Hermione muttered uneasily as she tried to wriggle her hands unsuccessfully through the handcuffs. Ginny giggled and whispered back as she positioned herself behind Hermione, working the belt of her pants as she did so, "Now, now, you did promise to help me. It is your duty as our resident muggle expert. Now, hold still while I confirm whether the baton is as multifunctional as page 194 of _Everett's Guide to All Things Muggle for Wizarding Dummies_ claims ..."


	3. The Art of Seduction Is Never So Subtle, Or Is It?

Hermione Granger's eyes practically jumped out of their sockets at the label on the jar in her hand. Before she could quickly put it down and pretend she was oblivious to the audacity, both Fred and George Weasley descended upon her in a manner akin to vultures when confronted with a dead body.

"What's this?" one of the twins quipped, grinning madly.

"Hermione Granger browsing our WonderWitch products?" continued the other.

"I can almost die a happy wizard now," teased either Fred or George, Hermione really could not tell.

"Almost," retorted the other one, both bursting into well-timed laughter.

"I was just leaving," Hermione quickly interrupted, about ready to elbow her way out of the Hogsmeade branch of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes if the twins would not let her through. If that did not quite work, she was sure she had a few choice hexes to use on them.

"Come now, it's not everyday that our genius is appreciated by a fellow genius," one of the twins said good-naturedly, throwing an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"Albeit you are from a different field altogether, we are not averse to sharing, are we, George?" Fred continued, throwing his arm around Hermione as well.

"Ah, this is what you were looking at?" George asked, picking up the jar and peering at its label interestedly.

"Works mighty well too," Fred assured Hermione.

"Who have you set your eyes on?" George asked in a disarmingly innocent tone all of a sudden.

"Uh, no one," Hermione quickly replied, crossing her arms over her chest to keep distance.

"Well, be that as it may, take this. Free of charge, let us know how it works, yeah?" Fred said benignly, pushing the jar into Hermione's hands as he winked conspiratorially. "Always happy to speed Cupid's work for him."

"Of course, that's probably why he picks on us when it comes to ... uh, dating and the likes," George added, waggling his eyebrows for effect.

"Aw, don't be spreading unnecessary rumours now," Fred replied, hitting George in the arm.

Taking the twins' preoccupation with each other as a swell opportunity to escape, Hermione did just that – a jar of body butter labeled 'The Sensation of Me on You', an aptly bad name for an aptly bad product in Hermione's mind, tucked neatly within the folds of her cloak.

***

While contemplating the wisdom of using such a suspicious product, Hermione was interrupted by a familiar voice saying, "Hey there." Jumping where she sat precariously on the edge of her bed and almost falling off as a result, Hermione managed to save the jar from falling and breaking at very last minute. "Ginny, must you sneak in like that?" she muttered wryly, stowing away the jar under her pillow quickly, where it bulged prominently and drew the attention of the ever inquisitive Weasley.

"What have you got there?" Ginny asked, pouncing onto the bed.

"Nothing," Hermione lied badly, moving to cover the product with her own body.

"Hermione," Ginny murmured, leaning closer ... and closer ... and even impossibly closer ...

Hermione felt like she could die a happy witch now. Ginny was so close that they were pressed together, all of them. Hermione suppressed a moan and tried to tell herself to focus.

"Body butter?" Ginny said out loud, bringing Hermione back to earth. She had deliberately baited Hermione and used her moment of inattention to grab the jar. She quickly jumped out of Hermione's reach and began reading aloud, "'The Sensation of Me on You' – It feels incredible, it smells great and most importantly, it gives you that opening you've been secretly dying for, you know we know!"

There was a pregnant pause in which Ginny looked very thoughtful and Hermione looked very contrite.

"I don't get it," Ginny announced, turning to Hermione.

"Well, you see," Hermione said very carefully, taking the jar and opening the cap slowly as she took the time to predict how Ginny would react. "It's body butter. So you apply it," and she did, "keeping in mind that it really is a poorly disguised pheromone boost -" At which point the wind was knocked out of her as Ginny pounced on her and proceeded to demonstrate how effective the body butter and/or pheromone boost really was. Coincidentally, this would be the point where the narrator shut up and leave the two girls madly stripped of their inhibitions to themselves.

***

"Fancy this," Fred said, walking into the living room of their shared apartment, an opened package under one arm.

"Fancy what?" George asked without turning around, only to have whatever it was he had been tinkering with blow up in his face. "Should have known better than to turn my back on you, brother," he said in a perfectly normal tone, quite oblivious to a little explosion or two by now.

"Hermione sent us a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey," Fred replied, revealing the bottle from inside the hastily torn package. "Good year too. Must have taken a near fortune to get your hands on one of these."

"Well, guess that's her way of telling us thanks," George said, waggling his eyebrows as he looked appreciatively at the bottle.

"What?" Fred asked, confused. "Oh, oh right! Must have worked mighty well for her to be this extravagant."

"Indeed," George chuckled. "Wonder who it is though?"

This would be where the narrator would suggest that there were things a brother should never ask to have knowledge of.


	4. Beautiful With Music In You

Hermione liked to dance to her own made-up songs and Ginny liked to watch. Sometimes she led, sometimes she was led. Sometimes the lyrics made no sense, sometimes they told more than any sincere confessions could ever impart. Whatever the song of the day was, whatever the dance of the day was, Ginny kept to her spot just behind the tall armchairs of the Gryffindor Common Room, let the hypnotic quality of Hermione's gentle voice wash over her and, when she felt a little more of her Gryffindor courage in her, stole quick glances through the gaps between furniture legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Written for Challenge #195 ~ Hypnotic at femslash100.


	5. Dreamcatcher

The radio is turned up so loud it should drown out unwanted background noise, but the music is coming out in stunted gasps, stuck on unpleasant notes and coloured with static; and the silence of abrupt deaths and even more abrupt lives hangs heavy in the air. The lyric makes no sense and Ginny wonders if she should just turn the damned thing off, but she knows Pansy needs the distraction even if it were in the form of an annoyance.

On the nights they manage to get the radio playing, they do not go beyond cuddling. Pansy lays her head down on Ginny's shoulder and draws sloppy circles on Ginny's bared stomach. She kisses random spots on Ginny's skin and hums along to songs she barely recognises. She keeps her eyes closed and drifts in and out of dreams with a sigh on her lips. It is not a perfect setup, not even an ideal one, but Ginny much prefers it to the scream Pansy usually lets out. On those other nights without the buzzing of a faulty radio to keep them company, Ginny makes up for the silence and nightmares by exhausting the both of them so that they fall into a dreamless sleep.

They are gentle in the night, holding and touching each other as if they were fragile, as if it were the first time all over again. They come with gasps and near silent moans, tears down their cheeks and calloused fingers in wet heat.

* * *

The walls are thin and people can be so unconsciously loud. The music from a struggling radio, if you could call it that (broken and muted in a way music should never be), filters through and strangles at the sluggish air.

Worst of all, Hermione can hear the way Ginny's voice slides over Pansy's and it conjures in her tired mind (because that is all she does: think, think and think, except when she does not and what does she do when she does not think?) a scene that does not belong in this grime and smudge they all like to call the War: something with a pink tint and a rosy scent, tangled limbs and flawless skin, morning sunlight on clean sheets and she imagines clean kisses and warm hugs. Only she has seen enough of Ginny and Pansy to know that the scene must be black and white, sharp angles, scars and bruises, and the silence is more than likely a deadly reminder; and love (for she has also seen how they look at each other) the only flicker of colour.

Even so, to an unwilling listener, the two of them sound so much like good tidings and even her painfully clenching heart manages a little flutter in sympathetic joy (or is that acknowledged defeat?).

Perhaps it is in retaliation (and again, perhaps not) that she finally gives in to Fleur's advances. She (needs) wants to burn out the images of Ginny from the backs of her eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Written for Challenge #196 ~ Music at femslash100.


End file.
